


we were never supposed to make it half this far

by scarlett_starlett



Category: Deadpool - All Media Types, Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Fluff and Angst, Gwen and MJ are supportive friends, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Underage Drinking, Implied/Referenced Underage Sex, Jock!Wade, M/M, Peter Parker is a Mess, Peter's gay awakening begins and ends with Wade Wilson, The Mary Janes (band), Wade Wilson has a 5 Year Plan to Date Peter, pretty!Wade
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-16
Updated: 2019-02-16
Packaged: 2019-10-29 20:33:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,846
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17815049
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scarlett_starlett/pseuds/scarlett_starlett
Summary: High school is rough.Uncle Ben is gone and being bullied has always been a problem for Peter Parker since he was little. But being best friend-adjacent to Midtown High School’s hunky quarterback star Wade Wilson is probably one of the few shining moments in his otherwise unlucky life—even if Wade is friends with Flash, his childhood tormentor, and distressingly straight (since, y'know, Peter has more-than-best-friend feelings for him. But that's all part of that Parker Luck™).





	we were never supposed to make it half this far

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, ya'll! Here is my contribution to the Spideypool Big Bang! I had a ton of fun writing it and I hope that you guys enjoy this fic, too. I've had this idea floating around my head for a while and the bigbang was a great place to really sit myself down to finish it properly. I want to also thank my artist [milkshake-sprinkles](https://milkshake-sprinkels.tumblr.com/) for coming up with some cool art for the fic!

 

“Peter!” Mary Jane shouts, slamming her tray down next to his and taking a seat. Her vibrant red hair is pulled back in a high ponytail today, strands of curly red springing out from their careful placement. That’s how Peter knows she’s more stressed than she’s willing to let on. After all, Mary Jane is the epitome of a perfect student: killer social life, killer grades, killer looks. Peter briefly wonders how he manages to befriend these amazing people and still be a loser by Flash's standards. “ _Please_  tell me that you’re going to my band rehearsal later today?” 

“Um…” 

“Gwen bailed on me again—something about scoring a date with Harry! Can you believe that? She’s just—ugh! She has no shame!” Mary Jane growls out. Peter slowly raises his brows at her. MJ quickly deflates at the look. “Okay, so she  _didn’t_  tell me that, she’d  _never_ tell me that, Gwen’s too… _nice_  to tell me that. But I  _know_  she’s seeing him behind my back and that makes her a jerk!”   

“I thought Gwen was going to visit her grandparents today?” Peter says, confused. At MJ’s flat look, Peter’s expression smooths out into one of sheepish embarrassment. “She… lied to me, didn’t she?”  

“Duh. You can’t keep a secret to save your life,” MJ blows out a bright red curl out of her face. “You’re just way too innocent and gullible. No offense or anything.”  

“None taken. Honestly, that’s probably the nicest way it’s ever been put,” Peter offers, not about to argue. It wasn’t like they would believe him if he said he  _had_ some worldly experience, which he certainly does. Compared to everyone else, it seemed like Peter was missing out on a huge chunk of life, but Peter’s long-since realized that there wasn’t any point in stressing out over it all.   

That, and Peter had accepted the fact that he’s never gonna’ get what he wants so he might as well live with it now than realize it thirty years down the line or something.  

That’s a crisis he  _really_  doesn’t need to have.  

“How do you know she’s got a date with Harry, anyway?”  

“It’s all anyone is talking about today,” MJ sighs. “Liz said she saw Gwen and Harry talking early this morning by the front gate and Harry  _walked_   _her_  to homeroom—like, he only did that to Betty when they were  _dating,_ not even when they were schmoozing around each other,so there  _has_  to be something going on there!”  

“I guess. Harry is just really nice, though, and it’s not like he hasn’t done stuff like that before. People have freaked out over those times, too,” Peter points out, recalling the time in junior high that Harry gave him lunch money when Peter had his stolen by a bully. He’d been the core of the whispers that day, too. That’s why Peter’s kind of relieved he grew out of his Freshman crush on Gwen Stacey. Now, Peter’s more curious about how these rumors spread so fast. Granted, it’s not like it takes a lot to be involved in them. Hell, just two weeks ago, everyone was gossiping about him and that party Flash threw in his parents ritzy home—something about Peter doing a keg stand and promptly choking on a guzzle of beer which, one, is  _so wrong_  on so many levels because Peter has  _never_ gone to any of the parties Flash has thrown (for reasons that include not wanting to die and also Flash hates him so why the  _hell_  would he invite him?) and, two, it had actually been  _Wade_ who did a keg stand and choked on a guzzle of beer—he’d just shouted  _Peter’s_  name right before he went down for some reason so that’s apparently what everyone remembered.  

“I know. He’s so great and he doesn’t even know it,” Mary Jane adds, her cheeks pink at the thought.  

“Oh, he  _does_  know it,” Peter snorts. “In fact, he knows it  _so much_ , I’m kinda’ getting tired of hearing him say it to everyone. I’m so great blah blah, look at all the charity work I’ve done blah blah. Also, look at this photo of me petting a kitten in a shelter, I’m  _such_ a good guy!” Peter rolls his eyes, remembering  _that_ Instagram post. All for the image of Oscorp, he’s sure. Peter has seen Harry shake a puppy off his arm after a photo shoot without giving it another glance.  

MJ shoots him a flat look. 

“I’m just saying, he might be a good guy, but he’s just a little too into himself sometimes,” Peter shrugs, popping open a milk carton.  

“Okay, so maybe he’s a  _little_ stuck-up.  _Either way_ , I just wish Gwen would stop being a hoe and taking all the guys I like! This is, like, the third one! What the hell? I even let her have Eddie Brock and he was legitimately  _sexy!_ I think he had a modeling contract, actually.”  

 _Oh, yeah_.  _Eddie Brock, probably the hottest guy to ever go to Midtown High. Ever._  

Before he transferred, anyway.  

Peter had found himself ogling him some days, too, especially when he wore  _that jacket…_  

Peter shook himself of those thoughts. Not a good time.  

“Going back to the subject, Harry knows you like him and you haven’t exactly expressed any of the righteous anger I expected you would, considering he gave you some BS excuse of  _needing time_ and not wanting to his life to  _change_ ,” Peter reminds, sticking a straw in his carton and taking a sip. “So what’s with the double-standard?”  

“Don’t come at me with your logic, Parker, I do not have the brain capacity right now to argue with you on the logistics of  _being in love!”_ Mary Jane throws her hands up dramatically, ignoring Peter’s sniggering. “Speaking of being in love, your bromantic adventure in sexual frustration is coming this way,” she adds, nose wrinkled at the sight of Wade Wilson entering the cafeteria with a huge grin and a loud laugh, per usual. “Wade’s probably more into himself than Harry is—bet he spends an hour in the mirror getting that unkempt hair  _just right_ before school. Come back to me when you get over  _that_  clown.”   

“He is  _not!_  He’s just—he just likes to look nice, what’s so wrong with that?” Peter fires back defensively, eyes finding Wade by the entrance of the cafeteria, laughing boisterously with a crowd of what Peter would have dubbed  _Flash’s jock friends_ some years agobut, honestly, ever since Wade transferred in late Freshman-year, that crowd had become more of  _Wade’s jock friends_ with Flash there as the co-leader or some weird animal hierarchy like that. “ _Really, really_ nice, wow,” Peter adds, a little dreamily as he watches Wade walk to a table. “Hey, did he get a new shirt? I haven’t seen that shirt before.” 

“You have, just not with those jeans.” 

“Of course, that makes  _so much_  sense,” Peter sighs out, staring at Wade’s flexing biceps. Actually, now that she mentions it, Peter doesn’t think he’s seen those jeans before, either. He looks up to tell her so and cringes at the sight of her deadpan look.  

“You are  _so pathetic."_  

“Aw, can it, MJ—I’m not the one writing lyrics about unrequited crushes,” Peter grumbles. “I accept the futile nature of my attraction to Wade Wilson and just die a little inside every time I hear about the new girl Wade’s with.” 

“Well, I wouldn’t call it  _futile_ _._ On the topic of rumors, you know most of those are fake.  _Everyone_ wants to date Wade and everyone says they  _have_  at one point or another. I don’t think he’s dated anyone since Vanessa Carlyle dumped him for her on-again, off-again ex-boyfriend Kane during Homecoming,” MJ adds thoughtfully. "God, that was such a mess. The best tea ever spilled, though! I was following that story for  _weeks._ " 

Peter remembers it a little less excitingly: Wade’s devastated expression comes to mind whenever he thinks about Vanessa. Peter had bought him some Mexican food from his favorite hole-in-the-wall when he found out and let Wade sniffle and pretend he wasn’t crying until two am, risking Aunt May’s wrath to ensure Wade felt better. It was one of the few times Peter was glad MJ coaxed him into going to a huge, public, function; he couldn’t imagine being dumped in such a way and then having no one to comfort him afterwards. Given, Wade and Vanessa had been at odds with one another for weeks, ever since Vanessa announced she would be leaving for an out-of-state college, but it was still harsh. 

Wade had really liked her. 

"I know. You were  _always_ asking about it, especially after Kane got accepted into Vanessa's college...somehow," Peter makes a face here, "and they never seemed over each other, at least not whenever I saw them in the same room together."  

"Sports scholarships will get you  _anywhere,_ Pete. Didn't Vanessa get accepted into Ohio State? I know Kane didn't have the grades to get in there, but he had a great record in football." 

 "Kane  _was_ really good at football..." 

"So is Wade...and Flash." 

"Flash hasn't even been  _recruited_ yet," Peter snorts, sending her a flat look of disagreement. "The entire gym is basically made up of university recruiters every time there's a game and not one of them have stopped to talk to Flash. They take all the good seats...I can never get a good seat to watch Wade play.” 

MJ rolls her eyes. “It’s embarrassing to watch you sometimes.” 

“Pining is no joke and I’d like it if you never mentioned my stupid crush in public ever again, please, for the sake of my social standing,” Peter mumbles miserably, unable to keep from glancing at Wade despite it. Wade caught his eye and grinned goofily at him and Peter quickly looked away, coughing to hide the heat on his cheeks.  

MJ smiled wryly. “If you’d just  _tell him,_ you’d realize you’re much higher on the social ladder than you think.” 

Peter just grimaces.  

When Wade Wilson had transferred in, he had become an instant hit with  _everyone—_ he was Canadian so everyone wanted to ask him about it, adopted by a wealthy couple that lived only a couple of blocks away in one of those glistening and towering condos, blonde and blue-eyed, talkative and  _extremely funny,_ with a jawline that would kill a lesser man, muscles the size of Peter’s head, and a charming, absolutely  _devastating,_ grin. 

Peter’s sure his gay awakening would have been  _a lot_  more traumatic if it had been with anyone  _but_ Wade Winston Wilson.  

As it turns out, all Wade had to do was flash that sunny grin at Peter and his heart had given out and reset immediately with his initials.  

Something about blue eyes makes him stupid, Peter grudgingly admits.  

It was only Peter’s awful luck that Wade had taken a shining to him and become his unofficial best friend within the first two weeks of his arrival, subsequently making Peter experience the agonies of having a crush on a Straight Man™ when Wade  _immediately_  started pining after Theresa Cassidy, who  _still_ won’t give him the time of day, and then dated Vanessa Carlyle for the entirety of Freshman year and part of Sophomore year, which ended disastrously and with Wade loudly exclaiming  about never dating again before he went on  _one_  date with some other girl in their class and  _then_ promised to stop dating, for some reason Peter is still trying to suss out.   

 Wade is popular enough to never have a short list of potential partners which is why Peter has  _zero chance_ of being with him. Even if that list were cut down somehow, Peter would still never be able to see the top of Wade’s head from how far back on that list he was—mostly because he’s a dude, but Wade’s always been extremely flexible with his interests and fawned over actor Andrew Garfield an  _awful_ lot, so Peter has some hope he isn’t totally averse to the idea of dating boys. 

But it also doesn’t help that he and Wade are… _well,_ friends. 

Like super-bros.  

Like no-homo-but-you’re-my-total-one-true-unofficial- _bro_ bro. 

 _Bromates._  

Peter only tacks on  _unofficial_  because Wade could have  _full length, hour-long,_ conversations with Peter in front of  _everyone—_ could hang out with him for a whole long weekend, could stick around him for  _days—_ and no one could acknowledge the fact that Wade seemed to genuinely like Peter Parker, winner of the Math Decathlon two times running, Senior yearbook photographer, part-time skateboarder, Track and Field member and winner of two silvers and one gold on a national level, and the ultimate embodiment of vanilla, boring, and nerdom there could ever be. 

Their school’s Instagram seemed under the impression of this being a long, extravagant, prank of some sort because of how different they appeared to be.  

Honestly, Peter was, too.  

It’s why the first-time Wade had ever spoken to him and proceeded to act all buddy-buddy with him, Peter accidentally hurt his feelings big time.  

Peter always winces when he remembers those awful four days—Peter had blown up on Wade one week into his best friend act and sent him to hell, only realizing that  _Wade had been serious about being his friend_ when he’d dejectedly said he’d leave him alone from now on and he was sorry for being such an annoyance to him.  

Damn Canadian’s.  

Peter had apologized, of course, quietly telling him that Flash had done something similar when they were in middle school and pretty much humiliated Peter in front of his class, so he was always wary when anyone in Flash’s group of friends became too friendly with him.  

Wade had accepted his apology—and kept Flash off his back thereafter, going as far as getting into a fist fight with Flash when Wade had caught him intimidating Peter against lockers.  

Peter hadn’t been expecting  _that much_ back-up, but the threat worked: Flash no longer bodily abused him—verbal abuse was still all the rage, however—but at least Peter’s psychological scars were a better alternativethan the physical ones _._  

He had been growing tired of telling Aunt May lies about his bruises, about how he’d fallen on the track or hurt himself in the weight room.  

He was tired of disappointing May in general—and he’d been  _so good_  since his arrest in the red-light district of Brooklyn, since Peter decided he needed to full-stop his self-destructive behavior after Uncle Ben’s death and get himself straight and right again.  

At least when Peter’s just down about Flash’s jeers or mocks, May chalks it up to teenage hormones.  

At least when Peter’s late home now, May chalks it up to being with his friends and  _not_  bloody knuckles against jaws and busted, flashing neon signs.  

“Wade is a great guy,” Peter defends, not about to head down that depressing road. He already knows he fucked up his chances at Stark Academy; he just wants to graduate with enough honors to get admitted into a community college with a scholarship at this point. “He gave me his chocolate milk yesterday and he  _loves_ chocolate milk! Well, he loves food in general. I’ve  _never_  seen him share,” Peter adds. “Except with Vanessa, but she only ever ate his apples, from what he’s told me, and, honestly, I’m pretty sure he let her because he hates apples.”  

“I’m not even surprised you knowthat about him. Anyway, just come to band rehearsal tonight and bring your own pick, I don’t have any spares. Oh! Also, come early so you can warm up! Gwen’s doing some vocals so you’re gonna’ have fill in for her and sing her parts!”  

“Ugh,” Peter groans. “But I  _ha_ _aa_ _te_  my voice. Pass.” 

“It’ll just be for one song,” MJ smiles a little. “Besides, your voice ain’t half bad, tiger. If you weren’t so stubborn on not joining my band, I’d take you over Gwen any day! Don’t tell her I said that, though!” She winks and Peter gives her a crooked grin in thanks at that, reaching over to hug her goodbye when she opens her arms to him. He doesn’t even make it half-way in before strong arms wrap around his midsection and pull him back suddenly, into a very firm and defined chest, the familiar breath of cinnamon brushing against his cheek.  

“PETER!” Wade shrieks. “I HAVEN’T SEEN YOU IN TWO DAYS!”  

“Jesus, Wade! Not in my ear!” Peter screams back while Mary Jane just sends Wade an  _entirely_ unimpressed look. “Do you have to do that every time Monday comes around?!”  

“Of course, I miss your dorky face every weekend,” Wade mocks, reaching over to pinch his cheeks. “Lookit those chubby cheeks!  _Look at ‘_ _em_ _!_ _”_  

“Ow—hey, quit it! Stop, you’ll give me wrinkles!” Peter grumbles, swatting his hand away from his reddening face. “Uh, well, you said hi, so can you…let me go? I gotta’ say bye to MJ.”  

“Bye MJ,” Wade beams, comfortably perched behind Peter, not at all loosening his iron grip on Peter’s midsection when he makes a half-assed attempt to escape. “Good luck in whatever you’re doing today,” he adds, as if that’ll take the sting out of it.  

Peter looks up at MJ nervously, but he only finds her watching Wade with a degree of actual amusement, which isn’t a good thing on MJ since she’s about the scariest person Peter has met.  

“Wow, Wade, anyone ever tell you that you don’t wear  _green_  very well?” MJ snorts at his, in her eyes, truly pathetic display. She can’t believe Peter still thinks Wade’s 90% straight when he does things like hog his attention or frown at her in the hallway whenever he catches her talking to Peter a little too closely. Honestly, Wade has the worst/funniest jealous streak she’s  _ever_ seen and that’s only because he’ll glower at her one moment and look all sadly at Peter the next, like he really thinks Peter doesn't like him.

Maybe he doesn't, MJ thinks briefly and smiles. She  _really_ wants to be there to see how this plays out because it had to be hilarious. 

“ _Red’s_ a better color on me, actually, really brings out the blue in my eyes,” Wade snaps back, bringing her back from her musing.  

MJ cocks her head, smile becoming a smirk. Wade's own smirk falls a little at it. “Hm. So it is. Anyway, I’ll see you at 6, tiger, don’t forget!”  

“Er, yeah! Of course! See ya’ later, MJ!” Peter waves awkwardly, pulled back to Wade when the boy frowns. 

“What the hell is  _that_ all about?” Wade asks, eying MJ as she walks away. “Did she con you into doing her homework again, Pete? You have no will!”  

Wade and MJ did not like one another— _at all—_ and Peter sort of compared it to Shiklah and him because, boy, whenever the beautiful cheerleader was around did Peter act  _extra bitchy._ She’s probably the only girl Peter’s extra-stressed out about since Vanessa happened, given Wade’s genuine like of her. Something about respecting being a huge bitch or something.  

 _Only Wade,_ Peter sighs at himself. 

“Oh, hah, no, not this time. Gwen is busy with something so MJ just wanted me to fill in for her at her band rehearsal. I do it sometimes when Gwen can’t make it,” Peter smiles, wiggling out of Wade’s tight grip before he gets anymore sweaty. Wade Wilson is renowned for lacking personal space; it kills Peter every time he watches one of the cheerleaders get so touchy with him, especially Shiklah—she’s beautiful, confident, with just the right amount of femme fatale, and he’s pretty sure Wade is interested or he wouldn’t let her stick so close to him all the time.  

 _Of course_  someone as perfect as Wade couldn’t even be  _a little_ Peter-sexual.  

He just  _had_ to  _love_ bro-ing it up with Peter.  

“Ooh, you can sing, Petey?” 

“No,” Peter snorts. “I can play the guitar, though.” 

“Hot,” Wade flashes him a grin. Peter rolls his eyes. “Not only are you a cute nerd, but you’re also good with your hands. You’re making my heart go doki-doki here, Pete! That, or I have arrhythmia.”  

“Not funny,” Peter sniggers anyway. “Aren’t you an athlete?”  

“Is that what we’re calling it now?” 

“Well, it definitely isn’t band practice or I’d have more muscle mass than I actually do.”  

Wade just laughs at his stupid joke and Peter ducks his head as he fiddles with something on his bag. Before he can say something dumber just to make Wade's eyes brighten again, one of Wade’s friends come barreling between the tables. 

“WADE! Wade! You gotta’ see this, you were right!” Bob gasps, grabbing Wade by the shoulder. “Wade, oh my God, you gotta’ check out Steven’s Snapchat, he got absolutely  _destroyed_  yesterday—oh, hey, Peter!” 

“Hi, Bob.”  

“Bob.  _Hey_. My best third wheeler, the killer of all boners. That sounds cool but, hey,  _listen_ , I’ll be over there  _in a sec_  so if you could  **leave** —?”  

“It’s alright, go back to your friends, Wade,” Peter interrupts and overlooks Wade’s disheartened look, already packing up his stuff. “I have to go do something in the library anyway.” 

“But you’re my friend, too, Pete,” Wade says, with that heart-wrenching sincerity that has Peter thinking he’s in way too deep for someone as socially awkward as him.  

"Thanks, Wade, but really, I have to finish an assignment for Chem and it looks like your friends are waiting for you anyway," Peter points out, and Wade makes a weird grumbly face at the group of teens who just burst into laughter at the sight of them. 

Nice. 

Peter tries not to let it get to him.  

“So are you coming or should I go…?” Bob asks, looking between the two. 

“He’s going,” Peter insists.  

“AWESOME!”  

“Bob, remember that  _talk_ we had a long time ago? That really important one? The one where I came to a groundbreaking realization that I had been ignoring _this whole time?_ ” Wade grits out, sending his friend a  _look_ that has him staring at him for a second and then widening his eyes. 

“Yeah, yeah! The one with the five-year plan!" Bob nods his head eagerly.  

"Five-year plan?" Peter raises a brow. "That's some commitment. What'd you do this time, Wade?" 

" **Bob** ," Wade stares hard at the befuddled boy, then looks happily at Peter and says, "I am a man made of pure commitment! In fact, you can say commitment is my middle name! Unless you're not into that—in which case, who cares about middle names, anyway? Like, who even uses them in this day and age?" Wade adds hastily. 

Peter chuffs out a laugh. "Having commitment to the things you love is extremely important," he agrees, and Wade's eyes brighten excitedly, like a puppy who'd just learned a new trick and received head pats.  

It hits Bob then. 

"OOH! Ohhhh, I see! IT’S PET—!”  

“Shut up, Bob!” Wade snaps.  

“Wade, be nice!” 

“Ugh. I can't believe this. Why am I even friends with you, Bob, goddammit! I thought you fucking knew, you—”  

"Wade!" Peter scolds. 

"What? It's true! He's slow on the uptake  _all the_   _time_!" 

"Is this about your secret five-year plan that you're  _not_ being very secretive about?" Peter raises an unimpressed brow. 

"It isn't definitely not about my secret five-year plan, no?" 

Peter rolls his eyes. "Right."  

“ _I am so sorry_ ,” Bob whispers as he stares at Peter like he’s never met him before. That, or like he realized something super important and it’s only just dawning to him just how important it was.  

Peter sends him a weird look, but chalks it up to Bob just being, well,  _Bob_. “Whatever it is, just don’t get into _too_ muchtrouble, alright?  _Anyway_ , I’ll catch you later. See ya’ around, Bob,” Peter smiles politely, hitching his bag further up as his shoulder as Wade hastily stands and mumbles out a bye as well, scratching the back of his neck as he watches Peter walk out of the cafeteria.  

“Why couldn’t you have just  _told me_  it was Puny Parker?” he hears Bob exclaim as he walks away, and Peter groans and walks faster, not about to listen in on Bob telling Wade about how much more of a loser he is. The five-year plan was probably something dumb. Maybe Wade had a five-year plan to make him less awkward or geeky. Peter wouldn’t put it past him to try; it’s not like Gwen or MJ hadn’t tried before. 

He isn’t sure he did anything too geeky this week but, honestly, who knows, maybe someone caught the 110% on his last math quiz.  

High school’s rough, but at least Wade goes out of his way to talk to someone as uncool as Peter anyway.  

That's all he can really hope for nowadays. 

 

* * *

 

“My throat is  _killin_ _’_  me, MJ. Can we take a break?” Peter begs, rubbing his throat for emphasis. MJ puffs her cheeks at the thought but, at the sight of her other band members watching her hopefully, she relents and waves them off.  

“Alright, take ten! We’ll meet back here and then do two more songs before we bounce,” she relents and watches as her bandmates scatter, some going inside her house for snacks. MJ’s garage had been emptied out and redesigned by her parents to allow room for her band rehearsals and recording. Since her dad worked late evenings and her mom was involved in a lot of community events in the evenings, she could rehearse without bothering anyone so long as the garage door stayed shut.  

“Gwen must be in pretty good vocal shape if she can go an entire two hours. I can barely go one without feeling like I ate an entire plank of wood,” Peter jokes, and MJ goes over to plop down next to him.  

“She was pretty dedicated to the band.” 

“Was meaning past tense?”  

“She…she has a  _future_ , Peter. She has plans that go beyond being in a dumb high school band and doing gigs at libraries and the occasional venue,” MJ says, shoulders slumping sadly. “The band was only ever a stress reliever for her. It was never  _everything,_ like it is for me. This band is  _everything_  for me, Pete. I put a lot of work and  _hours_ into my music, but Gwen has a future out there, y’know? Kinda’ like you do.” 

Peter looks away, unable to look her in the eye. He feels horrible, but he doesn’t think telling her that he sabotaged his own chances at having a future would be a great ice breaker. 

“But it means a lot that you’re still here helping me out,” MJ adds, sincerely. “I know the music doesn’t matter to you much, but you’re good at it, y’know? You’ve always been real artsy, especially with your camera.” 

“Yeah, you should see my selfies,” Peter smiles crookedly. “Grade-A. They should be used in Ad’s.” 

MJ laughs before she sobers up. It’s quiet for a moment, then: 

“We have this gig at the Olympian next month.”  

“What, seriously? That’s not a  _gig,_ that’s  _huge!”_ Peter gawks. The Olympian was a popular venue in Midtown. A lot of major bands got their starts there; it was famous for bringing in new talent. “That’s amazing, MJ! You’re gonna’ do  _great,_ ” Peter excitedly exclaims, because he can see the anxiety and fear in her pretty green eyes. “I always had faith in your band. I’ve listened to your music, I’ve  _been a part of it._ Trust me when I say that I  _know_ that you’re going to kill it out there and you’re gonna’ be the next big name in alternative!” 

“That’s what  _everyone_  tells their friend who’s in a high school band,” MJ sighs, but some of the tightness has loosened from her shoulders at the words.  

“Hey, give me some credit here! I don’t think I’d be telling you this if you weren’t good. I wouldn’t say anything at all if that were the case,” Peter points out.  

“True. You’re a sucky liar, Parker.” 

“Exactly! Listen, it might not happen immediately. It might not even happen in the next five years, but I  _know_ you’re gonna get signed, MJ. If anyone can make that happen, it’s you. You and Gwen…you’re both  _amazing,_ ” Peter chuckles, a little sadly. “I don’t know how I got to be friends with people as incredible as you two, but…I’m glad I did.” 

“Ohh, you huge  _sap!_ How could such a big softie like you still be single? _”_ MJ hugs him tightly, just about squeezing the life out of him. “We...we could be really good for each other, y’know?” She murmurs against his temple, tightening her arms ever the slightest. "If we tried. If you, um, wanted to?" 

Peter sucks in a breath.  

It’s not like he hasn’t thought about it before. It’s not like, when he’s down about Wade and his future and  _everything else,_ he doesn’t think about MJ and feel instantly better—thinks about her and wonders if she’d say  _yes_ to dating him and envisions a future where he can just... _start over_ with MJ and her band and use what little shit he learned in high school to make a living. 

But then he’ll scroll past a photo of Wade on his phone and he’ll notice his beautiful grin and bright blue eyes and he’ll feel his breath stutter and his chest fill with  _warmth_ and then he’ll remember Uncle Ben and how he would always describe meeting May as a heat that struck straight through his chest and left him breathless.  

Uncle Ben always told him to wait for that person—for the person who makes his chest feel warm, his lungs tight, and he always told him to never give up on them if it feels right, if there’s even a  _chance._  

Peter couldn’t do right by Uncle Ben before his death, he wants to at least do right by him in  _this._  

“Could’ve, would’ve, should’ve,” Peter quirks back. He pulls back from her embrace before it can go anywhere—pulls back from the potentiality, from the small voice in the back of his head that asks him  _why not?_ because MJ is amazing and beautiful and fierce and a dear friend. But she’s not  _Wade_  with his booming laugh, his grin, his kindness; his shards of darkness and incredible empathy.  

She doesn’t make his breath stutter, and she doesn’t fill his chest with warmth like Wade does.   

“Ouch. Don’t worry, I get it—I was just wondering, and I figured now was a good a time as any.” 

“I…maybe if we’re thirty-five and still miserably single,” Peter laughs, but puts space between them again. MJ steps back, too. “You’re still my best girl, though,” he adds, warmly.  

“I can live with that,” she smiles good-naturedly. “But, face it, tiger,” MJ grins a fierce grin, standing tall and proud again. The other band members are spilling into the room again, getting into position. “You  _could_ have hit jackpot! Don’t come crawling back to me when I make it big and you could’ve been my poster boy!” 

“Pfft, please. Just make a deep song about me that I can hear on the radio and reminisce on,” Peter laughs, standing up to get his guitar again.    

Shouldn’t, couldn’t, wouldn’t. 

 

* * *

 

 

So, this is a thing Peter has accepted about himself. 

He’s a  _helper_  at heart; he helps people because he can, because everyone should, because it’s everybody’s responsibility to help those in need, but particularly because it’s  _his_ responsibility to help those he  _can_ —especially if he has everything he needs to do so. It would be cruel, in Peter’s eyes, to not do this. He understands sometimes people are bad, sometimes for no reason; that sometimes people may not deserve it or may take advantage of your kindness. But it’s not  _his_ place to judge, it’s his to  _help_ , and Uncle Ben had always reminded Peter that if he could help, he should—damn the odds.  

So that’s what finds him in  _this_  predicament a week later.  

“She  _hates me!_ I just know it! She won’t even talk to me in homeroom anymore, Peter! She’s never been this mad at me before!”Gwen agonizes, locked up in the largest stall in the girl’s bathroom with a napkin in hand and her shoulders slumped. Peter shifts against the tiled wall as Gwen blows her nose, very aware that if he’s caught here by  _anyone,_ he’ll be in huge trouble. But Gwen had looked so broken up earlier and, when Peter had asked, she had immediately burst into tears and dragged him away before anyone noticed.  

Gwen Stacey and MJ were both very dear friends to Peter. MJ had pretty much been there since the start of high school and had watched him crush on Gwen, grow out of it, and  _now_ crush on Wade. But Gwen had been there when his Uncle Ben had been shot looking for Peter after he’d stormed out during an argument, so Peter was  _very indebted_ to one Gwen Stacey since she’d helped Peter through his grief and begged her dad to keep the murder case open and not shelve it away like so many others.  

Hell, it’d been  _Gwen_  that gotten him out of juvenile detention for the slew of charges he had on him after one of Sheriff Stacey’s officers caught him on the wrong side of town _._  

So getting dragged into a girls’ bathroom during fourth period so Gwen could divulge all the secrets and anxieties she’d harbored since she started her little liaison with Harry Osborn? It’s the  _least_ Peter could do.  

“MJ doesn’t hate you, Gwen,” Peter soothes. “She’s just hurt that you went behind her back and started dating Harry which is, yeah, kind of out of character of you, to be honest. You knew she really liked him…”  

“That’s the thing, I’m  _not_ dating Harry!” Gwen admits, shrinking under Peter’s surprised but skeptical look. “I’m not! Really! Okay, here’s the deal: Harry said there was an internship position open at Oscorp’s and that they were looking for a New York-native high school student in the top 10 percentile that could work there for the year. The thing is, the competition for that sort of position is  _insane_ and there’s no way I’d be able to compete against Stark’s private school….” 

“Oh, no, Gwen, don’t tell me you did what I think you did,” Peter says, dread filling his stomach.  

“I…Harry said he’d fudge the process a little and put my application on top, even drop my name in the HR department so I could get an interview…  _if_  I promised to be his date for every gala and sponsored event until he graduates. Nothing shady, just…I would have to act as his  _date,_ ” Gwen avoids Peter’s stern gaze after she says that, sticking her hands between her thighs nervously. “I know, I  _know_. Scummy, right? But this position would mean  _everything_ to my career! I want to be an active voice in the biomedical sphere, Peter!” Gwen implores, looking up at Peter all watery-eyed and sad. “I want to make a difference  _so bad_ , but I need connections to do that, and my campaigning around different schools and conferences isn’t going to cut it this time around.” 

“Maybe not in the  _short-term,_ ” Peter says gently, reaching over to hug Gwen when she bites her lip and looks like she’s about to cry again. “But long-term? Gwen, you’re  _brilliant._ You’re the most brilliant person I know—easily Valedictorian, and I didn’t give up that title easily. Still won’t,” he adds, since they had time before they graduated and his grades were  _good_ this term. “You don’t have to try so hard to make a name for yourself when you still have so much to learn and so much to  _do_ before that. What Harry made you agree to, it isn’t right. You still have time,” Peter says earnestly. “And I  _know_ that once you learn everything you need to, you’re gonna’ be on the cover of every science magazine—!”  

“Ohh,  _stop_ _it_ _,”_ Gwen blows out a breath, but her cheeks are pink with pride and her eyes are brighter than before.  

“And you’re gonna’ be  _amazing_ , Gwen,” Peter finishes, handing her some more napkins. “I never doubted you for a second. I always knew you were going to do something incredible with your life. You  _don’t_  need Harry to do that—you can do that  _all on your own_. You have already.”  

“…Thanks, Pete,” Gwen says after a long moment, new resolve lighting her sapphire eyes. Nostalgia and ghost feelings of longing and want curl deep within Peter at the sight. Peter has always had a thing for blue eyes, but something about  _fiery_  blue eyes always got to him. It’s why Peter loves going to Wade’s football games, even if he hides by the edge of the bleachers since he always gets there too late and all the good seats are taken. The way Wade’s eyes  _looked_ when he played made his stomach flutter and his chest tighten with yearning.  

Maybe Peter just wants someone to look at him like that  _once,_ maybe that’s why he’s attracted to blue eyes and fire.  

“We should get to class—or, actually, lunch before we get in trouble,” Peter says after another moment of silence. Gwen nods and hastily stands, peering out of the stall and tugging Peter out when it’s clear. The bell had rung some minutes ago and since this bathroom was by the gym, it hardly got any traffic, but lunch was in session and Peter  _really_ didn’t want to get caught by a teacher. “And you need to talk to MJ before  _anything_ else happens, alright? You two are my best girls and you’ve been there for me through thick and thin so I gotta’ be there for you for this—what Harry’s doing is wrong, Gwen, he shouldn’t have asked that of you in the first place. Be careful what you do about this,” Peter cautions as he steps out of the bathroom, holding her hand. “I wouldn’t know what to do if anything bad happened to you.” 

“I know. I’ll be careful, I—oh,” Gwen gasps, and Peter looks over his shoulder to find Wade Wilson standing in the hallway, holding a basketball. Games were always being held during lunch-hour since the gym was pretty much open all the time; Peter should have thought of that. “Um…Wade! Hey! What’s up?” Gwen hastily let’s go of Peter’s hand and steps back.  

“Oh, hey, Wade,” Peter awkwardly greets, frowning when Wade sends him a complicated look. “You gonna’ go play ball with the others?” Peter asks, trying to keep it normal, but Wade just makes this half-hearted noise.  

“Hey, Peter… _Gwen,_ ” Wade greets, lackluster. “Well, I can’t say this is a huge surprise, but I definitely should have taken this into account. Never woulda’ thought I’d catch the Queen Bee in cahoots with my boi Peter here. At least not this soon,” he says and the words sound like they’re being pulled from him, as his fingers tap rhythmically against the basketball in his hands. “Would’ve been  _nice_ to have a warning.”  

“Well, um…” Gwen begins, nervously. “Wade, listen, um…” 

“He won’t tell anyone,” Peter tells her, quickly. Wade looks at Peter sharply, like he wants to argue that point  _very loudly_ , but Peter sends him a pleading look and Wade clacks his teeth together. “He won’t tell Harry, if that’s what you’re worried about! I—I’ll explain everything to him, it’s fine! Just go handle that first and then go be gross with MJ again—I kinda’ miss it when you two gang up on me.” 

“Oh, my God! What’d I do to deserve you?!” Gwen bursts out suddenly, lunging at him in a huge hug. “You’re  _my best friend!_ You hear that, Parker?  _Best friend_! No take-backs! No refunds!”  

“Loud and clear, Stacey,” Peter chuckles and pats her back, letting her go after. “I gotta’ talk to Wade, so I’ll catch you later!”  

Gwen kisses his cheek and waves at Wade, hurrying down the hall and disappearing around the bend. Peter turns back to Wade, rubbing the back of his head. “Uh, sorry about this, but would it be okay if you didn’t tell anyone what you overheard? If you overhead anything,” Peter adds, softly. “Gwen just got caught up in something that’s way over her head, but if the entire school found out, it would be… _extremely_ bad for her right now and-and you’re not talking—you’re usually talking, why aren’t you talking? Is something the matter?” Peter asks nervously, walking closer to Wade when the boy only glares at him—like he  _wants_ to be mad at him but can't.  

“Um, yeah, something is  _kinda_ _’_  the matter. Like the fact that you said I wouldn’t tell anyone! Why wouldn’t I if I thought you and blondie over there were shacking up behind Harry’s back? Sure, he’s a douchecanoe, but doesn’t he deserve to  _know he's being cheated on_?” 

“What? But we’re not! Promise, I-I would  _never do that!_ ” Peter gasps, horrified. He hadn’t even thought of how their exit would have looked to anyone looking in.  

“Well, I know that  _now,_ after that little show you put on,” Wade grumbles, crossing his arms stubbornly. The ball bounces away and Peter clumsily grabs it. “But I  _could_  have told, y’know! I  _hate_  cheaters!”  

And Peter wouldn’t fault him for that, since Vanessa  _technically_ cheated on Wade with Kane… 

“I know. I know it must have looked bad,” Peter confesses. “But she’s just my friend, honest! Gwen…Gwen means a lot to me because her dad is head of the NYPD and, um…he personally helped…catch the, uh,” his breath catches, but his eyes don’t water which is a huge improvement since the last time he told someone, “the mugger that killed my uncle. If she hadn’t pushed for it so much, he’d probably still be out there, and it was killing me to not be able to do anything. I was in a really bad place at the time and Gwen helped me out of it—she…she helped me out of it,” Peter ends suddenly, not about to delve into the details of that awful year. “The least I could do is help her out of  _this_ , whatever it took,” he says, earnestly, and when he looks up, Wade is staring at him with a look of similar of devastation to when Vanessa dumped him for Kane during Homecoming. “What’s the matter, Wade?” Peter asks, alarmed, but Wade’s look fades into something impossibly warm and gentle and  _painfully soft_ that has Peter short of breath again.  

Blue eyes and  _tenderness_ is something new, and almost better than blue eyes and  _fire_ _,_ Peter decides in that instant. 

“How are you so... _good_ _?_ ” Wade asks, softly. Then the softness vanishes. “And I’m from Canada! You’re stealing my groove, Pete, not cool!”  

“Ahah,” Peter smiles, relieved it was nothing bad. “Sorry. Wouldn’t want to overshadow a native Canadian in niceness.” 

“Impossible! I’m still hurt, Peter—I thought  _I_ was your best friend! If we’re not best friends, then what are we?” Wade whines.  

“We’re  _best_  friends—I can have two best friends! Who was the jerk who said I couldn’t? I’ll tell Flash they insulted his stupid haircut and he can take care of ‘em for me,” Peter teases.   

“Nuh-uh, nope—negatory, Peter, Peter, pumpkin eater! Doesn’t work that way! There can only be  _one_ and,  _clearly,_ Gwen knows more about you than I do!”   

And, oh, did Gwen know  _about him._ She probably knew too much about him. Honestly, if she ever thought about dating him before, after that stint in the NYPD station and having at least  _four_ different officers yell at him before May picked him up and yelled at him, too, she’d never want to date him  _ever_ since, clearly, when something goes wrong in Peter’s life, he loses his absolute mind. 

It must show on his face because Wade points at it accusingly.   

“SEE! YOU’RE NOT DENYING IT! WHAT ARE YOU HIDING FROM ME, PETER?” Wade screams, pouting and scowling at him in a way that excites and scares him. Wade in his life is all he wants, but there are… _things_ Peter has done that he’s embarrassed to tell Wade about. Like, would he even understand why he did what he did? What was going through his head when he did? His therapist talked a lot about trauma and how trauma changes a person not only psychologically, but physically, and they always stressed the fact that he  _witnessed_ his Uncle be shot and die and it was okay to not be okay. 

But Peter’s level of ‘ _not okay_ _’_ was the stuff that ruined futures.  

Wade isn’t a saint—Lord, Peter has seen Wade  _stoned out of his goddamn mind_ and still thinks he’s the best thing since fried Twinkies.  

The difference is that Peter knows all this going in.  

Wade? Wade doesn't know about any of the  _bad_ in Peter's life. He knows he’s too smart for his own good and has a thing for multi-colored Sharpie’s and would probably pop a boner for the new Canon camera if he ever got his hands on it. He knows he's kind and would hang out with a friend in need for hours if they needed it.  

He knows just how good he is, not how  _not okay_ he can be, and Peter  _really_ doesn't want to ruin that image of himself. And yet, here he is, deciding just that. 

“I…may have done some stuff.” 

Okay, this isn’t going well at all. Why did anyone let Peter talk? 

“What kinda’ stuff?” 

“Bad stuff?” 

“Ooh, secret, nerdy bad boy, huh?” Wade croons, clutching his chest. “Be still my beating heart! You’re hittin’ all my weak spots, baby, I dunno’ if I could take it!”  

Peter barks out a harsh laugh. “No. Nothing like that. Just—I made some mistakes when I was fifteen,” Peter sobers up. “Really,  _really_  bad mistakes. I’m better now, though!  _Promise_. But I guess you’re right—Gwen knows more about me than anyone else does. I’m kinda’ surprised every day she willingly talks to me, since I treated her like absolute garbage that night—!” He cuts himself off. Wade sends him a flat look. “Okay, so maybe you’re  _not_ my best friend.”  

Wade eyes him for a moment, but instead of asking what Peter thinks he will, he surprises him: “So what are we?” 

Peter’s heart picks up at the question.  

He always wanted to hear that, but not quite like this.  

“Erm. Friends?”  

“EEEEH! Try again!”  

“No, we are! You’re my  _friend_ , Wade. I care about you a lot and we hang out constantly—and I really, really like talking to you. I mean, we talk almost every day and we text each other constantly so you’re my—boy friend,” Peter says thoughtlessly and immediately wants the school security guard to tackle him to the ground  _right now_  and taser him between the ribs when Wade’s eyes go wide and his mouth drops. “NO! NOT LIKE THAT—not like  _boy_ friend, not like that, I just meant, you’re a boy who is my friend and who I care about a lot? Shit, that sounds even worse. Erm, I totally didn’t mean to imply anything weird, like, we’re  _together_ or something _,_ that’s weird, right?  _Totally_  weird—I’d never do that! That’s—yeah, weird,” Peter babbles, red-faced. God, even his  _ears_  feel hot. Why does anyone let Peter out of the house?  

Immediately, Wade seems to recover, and the  _look_ in his eye tells Peter he is  _never_ going to drop this for as long as they know each other. 

"Ho ho ho! So  _that’s_ what we are, huh?" Wade grins suddenly, a shit-eating grin that has Peter regretting everything in his life leading up to this very moment. " _Boy_ friend, huh? I dunno’, Pete. I kinda like the sound of that—if Gwen’s your best friend, I don’t mind being your  _boyfriend_ ," he grins saucily at Peter, an expression Peter has been victim to before but never quite...as  _real_  as this. Was he joking? Peter can't tell but, but even if Wade wasn't joking, what would Peter do if he's faced with a real opportunity to date him?   
   
"Um..."  

The answer is jack fucking  _shit_  because Peter never thought this far ahead and we all know he’s shit under pressure in this universe.    
   
"C'mon,  _boyfriend_ , let's go play with some balls!" Wade shrieks. 

“…Sure, Wade,” Peter muffles from where he’d dropped his head into his hands, mortified. “Just don’t expect me to break any ankles.” 

“Of course not—that’s why you’re gonna’ be on the  _other_  team! We’re gonna’ break  _your_ ankles!”  

“Why are we friends again?” 

“Um, check your privilege—we’re more like  _lovers_ _!_ ” Wade cackles.  

His heart drops like a stone in his gut at the laugh and he's sure he didn't manage to hide his hurt very well, since Wade frowns at him when Peter doesn’t laugh, too. Peter ignores all that and tosses Wade the basketball, walking alongside him down the hall to the courts where all of Wade’s friends are, resigning himself to at least  _one game_  where Flash tries every maneuver he knows to beat, humiliate, and probably attempt to murder him without Wade knowing.    
   
_Fun_. 

 

Side-note: Flash slams the basketball in his face  _once_ at the start of the game _._ Wade laughed himself wheezing until he saw blood and dragged him to the nurse’s office, shrieking about  _why didn’t Peter tell him he was really hurt_ and  _that’s the last time I ever take you to a basketball game! Clearly you can’t be trusted to not break your own ankles!_  

Idiot.  

But, y’know what, Peter’s always had a thing for blue-eyed idiots, too.  

 

* * *

 

 

He also, apparently, had a thing for blue-eyed idiots who couldn’t just  _drop things._  

Wade has been pestering him about his “secret bad boy backstory” for the past month and even MJ is starting to snoop around. Since she and Gwen made-up, Peter trusts that Gwen would wouldn’t tell the  _entire_ story, but she’d drop hints to it, and Peter really,  _really_ doesn’t want to tell MJ.  

He doesn’t want to tell  _anyone_. 

It’s the most embarrassing life moment for him—the worst  _year of his life so far._  

If he could just erase that year and pretend it never happened, he would. In fact, he  _has,_ and it’s worked out great so far until he opened his dumb mouth and told the one person who couldn’t  _ever_ drop anything. Honestly, that’s probably why Wade got into as much trouble as he did, because Wade couldn’t drop things and he was stupidly adventurous and he was an idiot. 

“I know, you got a speeding ticket!” 

“No, Wade.” 

“Two speeding tickets?” 

“ _No_.” 

“Two speeding tickets in a  _construction zone!?”_ Wade shrieks, scandalized, and Peter rubs his eyes out, on the verge on just  _telling the_ _irritating_ _idiot_ what he did that’s so bad that he owes Gwen his first born and maybe half of his paychecks for the next foreseeable future.  

God, he should have  _known_ that Wade wouldn’t drop it.  

Wade’s ADD was pretty bad on any given day, but this was just ridiculous. Peter couldn’t even distract him with dumb jokes or non-sequiturs, that’s how hellbent Wade was on knowing his deep, dark secret—the shit-show that destroyed any chance Peter had at Stark’s private university since he would not be able to submit an application without undergoing a background check. 

Wade had been head-over-heels with Vanessa at the time, so he can’t  _exactly_  blame him for not noticing the bags under Peter’s eyes, the sharp edge to his words, the absences, the quietness. It happened during a time where  _everyone_ had something to do: MJ with her parent's potential relocation and subsequent loss of her band, Gwen with her 8-week intensive community college courses, May with her extra shifts at the hospital.  

“Wade, I don’t even have a license!” Peter says, exasperated at the pouting athlete. His blonde hair was spiked attractively today; God, he hates how  _hot_  Wade is. It’s distracting and rude. “It wasn’t a speeding ticket! It wasn’t jaywalking, it wasn’t truancy, it wasn’t  _a ticket at all,_ okay? Can you drop it now so we can get back to our homework? You’re behind on a whole chapter and Mr. Summer’s won’t be happy with you if you don’t submit the homework by Friday—which is  _tomorrow,_ by the way! _”_  

“OH! I know! I got it this time!”  

Peter groans. He’s  _incorrigible!_  

“You got caught underage drinking!”  

Peter tenses. Too close.  

“Wait, you  _did?_  You went to a party  _without_  me!?” Wade gasps. “What the shit, Parker, you  _never_  say yes when I invite you to my parties!”  

“It wasn’t  _a party,_ ” Peter grits his teeth.  

“Oh.  _Wait_ , that doesn’t make any sense! If it wasn’t at a party, then…did you get caught drinking at home? I can’t imagine Auntie May calling the cops on you! Look at those cheeks! Impossible!” Wade coos, going to pinch them. Peter swats his hand, staring down at his math homework furiously.  

He loves Wade, he really does, honest, but  _God_ can Wade piss him off like no one else.  

“It wasn’t at home, I was inBrooklyn!” 

Wade mocks a gasp. “What was a little nerd like you doin’ in such a place like that? You should know better, Petey! For shame! If you’re gonna’ get fuckin’ lit in Brooklyn, at least bring someone with a car for speedy getaways!”  

“Okay, fuck you. Y’know what?” Peter snarls, burning him with a dark look. Wade shuts up at the look, equal parts surprised and guilty. “You wanna’ know what I did that’s so bad, I owe Gwen forever? I was caught with alcohol in my system at a strip club in Brooklyn trying to find my Uncle's murderer after I got in a bar fight with some low-life who hit one of the girls and got myself arrested on-site. One of Officer Stacey’s guys picked me up so I got a couple of misdemeanors  _and_  an assault charge slapped onto my record and I would have probably gotten  _expelled_  if Gwen hadn’t convinced her dad and the judge that I was grief-stricken and depressed and a threat to my own life. I got sent to a  _psych-ward_  instead…I’m still in it,” Peter admits in a mumble, embarrassed. “I mean, I haven’t been  _discharged_  yet. It’s an, uh, process. So there. And that’s why Gwen’s my best friend and I owe her, like, a life-time supply of those Gusher’s she likes so much. If she hadn’t convinced her dad to drop some of the charges and then the judge to get me institutionalized instead of sent to juvie, I…I don’t know what I would have done. Something terrible, probably. I always end up doing something  _terrible,_ ” Peter grits out, shame burning his throat. “So can you  _drop it_  now? I  _hate_ thinking about how I fucked up my life so bad, the only thing I’ve got left to look forward to is  _track_ and getting a stupid piece of paper that says I can do algebra decently.”  

Peter glares down at his homework and blinks away the blurriness in his eyes. He doesn’t dare look at Wade, who’s been silent this entire time. It’s only when Peter’s finished an equation that he chances a glance.  

“What?” Peter demands, Wade's silence nerve-wracking.  “No jokes? No cracks on how the resident school nerd knows what alcohol tastes like? I know there’s a virgin joke somewhere in there,” he adds, nastily. “Or did I  _finally_ stump the Jock with a Mouth, Wade Winston Wilson?”  

Wade’s throat clicks with a gulp and he looks down, upset. 

The vitriol in Peter’s mood drains at the sight instantly.  

“Oh, no, don't do that. Don't...” Peter groans and drops his pencil, rubbing his eyes out and leaving his face buried in his hands. “I shouldn’t have yelled at you like that. You were just curious and…you didn’t  _know_. I should have been more transparent instead of blowing up on you like that. I’m really sorry,” Peter says sincerely, looking over him remorsefully. “I’m sorry I yelled at you.”  

“No—you shouldn’t—fuck. Fuck,  _fuck_ —where was I when this happened? We’ve been friends…since  _Freshman_   _year_ , when did all this happen? Why didn’t I notice? There’s no way I wouldn’t have… I’ve been...but I didn’t, when?  _Peter?_ _”_  Wade asks instead, desperately. “When did this happen?”  

Peter hesitates. “It was right after Uncle Ben’s…death, a week or two after it. The liquor store across from where it happened let me look at the footage and I tracked the guy to Brooklyn, where I proceeded to make everything worse for myself. You were with Vanessa a lot at the time. So, don’t sweat it,” Peter adds when Wade’s face goes blank. “MJ didn’t notice at all. She was busy with her parents and band. It’s okay. I’m over it now.” 

“It’s  _not_  okay— _nothing_ about this is okay!  _Fuck_ , no wonder I’m not your best friend. There’s no way I deserve to be. I never even  _noticed!_ What kind of friend doesn’t…” Wade hunches over, jaw tight. “What kinda’ friend doesn’t notice when their best friend is going through something  _like that?”_  

“No, no!” Peter rushes to correct, grabbing Wade’s shoulder and pulling him up straight. He pushes Wade’s head up so he could look him dead in the eye for this. This was another reason Peter never wanted to tell anyone; how can he explain this was all his fault, his responsibility? “Don’t do that. Please, don’t do that. Gwen never knew about my problems, either—she just figured it was school, or girls, or boys, or something, but not that I had these… _issues_ that I couldn’t work out. She only knew after the fact because her dad’s a  _cop_ , Wade. But, regardless, this is  _my responsibility,_ alright? It’s  _my_  fault. I never told anyone about what I was going through. I should have and I’m trying to make it better now—but  _never_  blame yourself for my mistakes because you couldn’t have done anything to stop me,” Peter tells him fiercely, smiling when Wade goes to argue. “You couldn’t have, Wade, I would have done it anyway if I really wanted. And I  _really_  wanted to,” he adds, when Wade opens his mouth. He closes it with a moody click and Peter chuckles gently.  “Thank you for being worried about me, but don’t blame yourself for this. You’re a great friend, y'know? You got Flash to stop bullying me!” Wade’s expression darkens a little more at that. “Like, I couldn’t do that by myself. And you hang out with me regularly, too, which is kind of a relief—Gwen is too good at  _Call of Duty_ and MJ just likes pushing me off rainbow road in Mario Kart. You're the only one that lets me win.”  

“I’m still sorry I wasn’t there for you when you needed me. You were there when  _I_ needed you—every... every time," Wade says after a moment and seems to look  _guiltier_ , slapping a hand over Peter’s mouth when he tries to argue. “It’s still shitty, okay? You can’t say it  _wasn’t_ shitty, because it was. I knew you were looking kinda’ rough, when I was with Vanessa—you stopped answering my texts and you didn’t wanna’ hang out as much anymore,” Wade says, and Peter’s surprised he remembers that. His heart thuds happily at it. “But I never  _bothered_  to ask why, and that’s why I’m pissed. You sure as  _shit_ know that I would’ve dragged your sorry ass out of Brooklyn if I knew,” Wade accuses.  

Peter pushes his hand off. “Maybe. Okay, fine,  _yeah,_ but it’s too late now and right now I’m just trying to, y’know, get outta’ therapy? But May won’t let me out until I graduate,” Peter sighs, slumping back in his seat. "The only good thing that came out of my stint in Brooklyn was that I actually  _did_ find the guy, so Officer Stacey was able to proceed with the case legally." 

“Huh, so that's how it happened," Wade says, softly. "How come you're still in therapy?" 

“I think May is just worried I might go off the deep end again or something. I mean, I can’t blame her. I  _did,”_ Peter says, sadly. “I think the fact that I had alcohol in my system freaked her out a lot more than me going on a hunt for this guy, but it wasn’t intentional. She doesn't believe me when I tell her I'd never had alcohol before that night. I didn’t know the drink was spiked...” 

“Famous last words.”  

“You’re telling me,” Peter grimaces. “It tasted like tea.” 

“They gave you a  _long island? HO BOY._ Yeah, those can fuck you up. How many you have?” 

“Like...two?” Peter hesitates and Wade gives him a sympathetic look.  

“You probably had like 5 shots in that and that’s why you nearly died.”  

“I’m surprised I even managed to keep track of the guy that night,” Peter sighs, and slumps back in his seat. “May won’t let me out of the program because of it. She’s scared I’ll...become an alcoholic, or something, to try and deal with  _things_...since I clearly can’t deal with traumatic events in my life properly. But I  _hate_  it there. It wasn’t too bad when I just talked to a therapist. But now they have me on some sort of socialization thing. I have to go twice a week. Group therapy is the  _worst_. I don’t know how many times I can tell everyone that,  _no_ , I don’t wanna’ leave the house because I have unchecked depressive episodes, I just literally have to pass Calc. because Mr. Summer’s is a dick and he assigns a ton of homework every night!”  

“Okay, so it’s not just me, right? He hates fun!”  

“He  _so_  hates fun—I don’t think I’ve ever seen him smile!”  

“I saw him smile once—it was when he gave out an F on a test!” Wade whispers like it’s a secret and Peter chuckles.  

“I believe that. He needs to loosen up,” Peter smiles, crossing his ankles under the table.  

“Are you just in therapy until the doctor releases you or are you in it until you pass a program?” Wade asks after a moment, unable to help himself.  

“Eighteen but only because May signed a waiver to keep me in it until I’m legally recognized as an adult. Judge sentenced me to 12 months in a troubled teens program, but I couldn’t miss a day of school. If I did, I’d violate my parole. Actually, I couldn’t do anything other than go to school and go home because May would skin me alive if I even came a minute past my curfew. Sorry. I really wanted to hang out with you outside of school when you invited me, but I legally couldn’t,” Peter laughs, sheepishly.  

“You could have told me,” Wade says, but not in offense like Peter’s used to. He just sounds sad. “I wouldn’t have judged you or anything. Not like I’m a saint—I’ve done some pretty bad shit, too. I didn’t clean up my act until the Prof and metal-head adopted me. Plus, Logan can beat me up since he’s around my age—I’m pretty sure metal-head pays him to pummel me every time I get in trouble,” Wade grins. “ _Adopted_ , thank God.” 

Peter snorts, grinning. “He’s older, right?”  

“Yeah. He’s  _twenty-three_ and he still lives with us because he can't hold down a job. He’s a bum,” Wade tells him lovingly and Peter has to bite back a laugh at it. “But he’s  _our_  angry, Canadian, bum.” 

“What’s up with your parents and adopting Canadians?” 

“I dunno’—Oh! Kurt isn’t Canadian! He’s German!” Wade beams.  

“Wait, what? I didn’t know you had another brother?” 

“He’s new,” Wade exclaims, excitedly. “Like, two weeks new! He hasn’t even come home yet! I was going to tell you as a surprise, but he's being a huge jerk about meeting my friends! He’s the baby in our family, though! He’s eleven and  _super_  smart! He already knows four languages and one of them is in kick ass because he’s also trying to get his black belt in Karate!” Wade brags, like a little kid himself.   

Peter smiles warmly, listening to him go on and on, indulging in Wade’s own asides and long-winded stories until he gets back on track. It's one of the best things about Wade, his stories, but it may also be one of the reasons they didn't tell each other as much as they should: Wade is really good at deflecting, and Peter's deflection lies in provoking Wade's non-sequiturs so they don't have to talk about what's really bothering him. 

Somehow, telling him about his most embarrassing moment...it makes him feel  _closer_ to Wade, like a barrier he never knew had been between them is down and there is nothing else to hide behind.  

It feels  _wonderful._  

“And, er—he’s…got a skin condition,” Wade sobers up, troubled. “Huh,  _that_ feels weird to say because usually I’m the one with that problem, but it’s hard to explain being blue in a modern AU. And the fact that Weapon X doesn’t exist in this timeline since I am  _definitely_ not going into the army now.” 

Peter squints at Wade. “I didn’t catch that reference. Are you talking about the new Gattaca remake?” 

Wade bursts out laughing. “Nope! But I know what’s happening, and that’s all that matters here.” 

Peter looks skeptical, but drops it as Wade continues rapidly: “Kurt hates going out because of it! He wouldn’t lemme’ look at him for one whole day, but it’s kinda’ hard to hide and ignore me when I’m  _definitely_ just going to keep talking at you through the door so he eventually let me in and we’ve been cool ever since.” 

“What kind of...skin condition does he have?” Peter asks, curiously. 

“Vitiligo.” 

“Oh! Yeah, I know about it. Is it really severe, is that why he’s nervous around other people?” 

“Yeah, but I think he looks fine! His skin looks really cool and I don’t think anyone would make fun of him for it _—his_ skin condition is actually interesting! _”_  Wade says earnestly, blue eyes bright with mirth. “I never thought he was weird or anything, but he says  _I’m_ weird because of it. But, let’s be honest, that’s my default half the fucking time so whatever. He’s going to be home-schooled, so it’s not like he has to go out, but he doesn’t understand that making friends with the trolls on the internet isn’t actually socializing.” 

“Maybe…would he be okay if  _I_ visited?” Pete hedges, and smiles when Wade looks over in hope. “Aunt May would let me go if you give her your parents’ home number and address. Oh, and if they called her to confirm. Sorry, I know it’s a lot, but—!” 

“Take it!” Wade shrieks, throwing his phone at Peter. “Come over, come over, COME OVER! Oh, my God! I’ve wanted you to come over for  _years,_ Peter, YEARS!”  

Peter barely catches the phone. “Th-then why haven’t you asked me, stupid?!” 

“You said you didn’t like going to other people’s houses and got  _mad_ when I insisted,” Wade pouts. "Like, really mad. I know why now, but  _still."_  

“I  _said_ that because I was on house-arrest at the time. I wasn't actually mad at you, just at myself for not being able to hang out with you like I wanted to,” Peter copies over Wade's parent's number onto his phone before tossing it back to Wade, who catches it effortlessly. God, his biceps—his stupid shoulders, his  _stupid neck._  Peter focuses back on Wade’s soft smile and ignores his wandering thoughts about how firm his biceps would feel under his fingertips. “Aunt May has started to let me hang out after-school with my friends if they call her and periodically let her know that I’m actually where I said I was.”  

“How’d they even let you in a strip club?” Wade asks suddenly. “Weren’t you, like, fifteen?” 

“Huh? Oh, the backdoor.”  

“That sounds sketchy enough to be true so I won't question it for the sake of the story.” 

“No, really, they just let me in through the backdoor. Hey, no, wait, quit making that face at me. I wasn’t there for the  _girls,_ I already told you—!”  

“Don’t try to lie your way out of this  _now,_  Peter, you fucking horn dog! What else would you be there for? You said someone called you! You  _knew someone in there_ _and that’s how they let you in_ _!”_ Wade accuses, and smirks when Peter glowers at him, caught.  

“FINE! I was there because this girl named Felicia worked there and she told me the man I was looking for had walked in. He wasn't a regular at the club, but he came frequently enough that she recognized him from my description and she tipped me off." 

"Who the hell is Felicia and why did she have your number?” Wade scowls and, upon seeing Peter’s weary but resigned expression, gasped dramatically: “Ohhh, my  _God_ _!_ You two fucked. Hopefully this time with less of a baby scare—that was a cheap shot that the writers did in the game, but I was there for it the entire time. I’d already picked out what type of Sketchers the kid would wear.” 

“Wait, what— _no_ , no, please never say that to me again. Felicia is just a friend!” 

Wade ignores him. “How’d you even meet her? Where the hell does anyone go to meet a stripper  _aside_ from a strip club?" 

"Um, rude, strippers are people, too, y’know," Peter retorts, and Wade's lip twitches up at it despite the annoyance in his pretty blue eyes. "I met her while I was out in Brooklyn one night, trying to find a lead. She was waiting for the bus, but she’d seen me around before since I was investigating all around the area,” Peter explains. “She’s…uh, she’s something. I think she just hung around me because she was afraid I’d get myself kidnapped or worse. Not a bad assumption—she really helped me out of some tight spots while I was investigating. People can be  _really_ twitchy when you start asking questions...” 

“I could’ve told you that,” Wade snorted. “And you’re  _sure_ she was just a friend?” 

“Wade, she’s twenty-two,” Peter said, exasperated. 

“So?! She could’ve pervved on you!”  

“No, Felicia—she would never do that. I'd never…don’t get me wrong, women are amazing, but being in the club made me realize that...I-I mean…” Peter groans, slumping back in his seat. There was no good way to say  _I’m really gay and I didn’t care for the strippers in the club_ without sounding, well, like he liked men an awful lot more than he initially thought. “I don’t know. There were all these girls but none of them really—the entire place wasn’t my scene and I just didn’t...see the appeal? No, I mean, I  _know_ the appeal, it just wasn’t for me,” Peter rushed out, still a little relieved he can  _finally_ talk about this. He hadn't been able to tell anyone about Felicia because May would have fainted and probably sent Officer Stacey on her and Peter really did care about her well-being and did not want to implicate her. It was one thing for the club to be implicated, but Felicia had been a huge help in catching his uncle’s murderer. 

Felicia also played an important role in helping him come to terms with his sexual identity.  

Felicia had  _always_ known, to Peter’s mild embarrassment, and she’d actually helped him with his sexuality crisis by nudging him when he wanted to just clam up about it and ignore it, which Peter was grateful for since it took another emotional load off his already heavy shoulders. She had been the one to teach him that being more sexually attracted to men than women, yet still more emotionally attracted to men and women, wasn’t as abnormal or crazy as he’d initially thought it was and offered up a few websites if he had more questions. 

"So...it wasn't serious?" Wade bites his lip, looking torn between amusement and despair.  

" _Wade_ ,” Peter laughed. “I mean it when I say she was always just a friend. We were never in a relationship, and I wouldn’t try even if I was legal. She’s called me for other stuff, mostly to be a distraction for...one of her hobbies? I’m _pretty sure_ she burglarizes homes in her spare time, she just won’t confirm it for legal reasons. Though, that night, she called me up insisting it was the same mugger I was looking for, and she seemed sincere this time so..." 

“Wow. I can’t believe you answer  _booty calls!!”_ Wade bursts out laughing. “That is great news. The game was right.”  

" _Business_ call,” Peter huffs, ignoring that last bit.  

“What’d it take for it to be a booty call then?” 

“Not Felicia calling me,” Peter snorted. “Maybe that  _really_  hot guy with the  _hugest_ biceps that frequented the club who went by Big X, but Felicia said he had a weird growth on his dick and, on one hand, if it wasn’t contagious, I’d do it. But she wasn’t sure and I don’t think my health insurance covers that so there you go, Wade, that’s what it’d take,” Peter jokes. Ha. Yeah, right. Like he’d be able to actually  _talk to someone attractive._ Just look at how he’s handling his actual crush right now.   

“Okay, first of all: TMI, but I’m also  _very_ impressed with you right now, you scoundrel, you. Second of all: I didn’t know you played for that field, Pete, I feel lied to. Betrayed. Absolutely  _devastated,”_ Wade exaggerates, but a weird intensity has lit up his pretty baby blues and it has Peter feeling a little hot under the collar, his hands shaky and his throat all dry. Wade and Peter were good friends and they texted constantly and hung out, sure, but only in the past year were they  _really great friends;_ talking about their pasts and likes and dislikes and  _thoughts._  

“I…” Peter makes a weird motion with his hand. He never truly came out to anyone: MJ just  _knew_ and didn’t care and Aunt May never asked if he liked anyone. Gwen was asexual so she never bat an eye when Peter fumbled a pronoun when he was gossiping with her. It was always just so  _natural_ with them that he never felt the need to be clear. “Why would I limit myself to just  _one gender?”_ Peter awkwardly laughs. “I just...never thought about it. It always just happened.” Anna when he was in elementary school. Johnny in middle school. Gwen.  _Wade. “_ But, if I’m being honest, well…I have a thing for… _y’know_.” 

“I  _don’t_ know, actually.” 

Wade smiles widely,  _expectantly_ _:_ he even clasps his hands under his chin, the bastard, while Peter sinks a little in his seat and regrets ever opening his dumb mouth. It’s always like this with Wade; he makes Peter say the things he feels most awkward about so easily.   

“Just….uh. You know what? Nevermind, you don’t need to know that—!” 

“No, no! Please, tell me? I wanna’ know! I thought we were  _boyfriends!”_  

“Okay, that’s even  _more_  inappropriate now that you know I’m not straight,” Peter flatly points out. 

“You were SAYING?” Wade ignores him, grinning wickedly. “TELL ME! Tell me, pleaseeee? I promise I won’t tell anyone your gay secrets!” 

“They’re not my gay secrets!”  

“Um, yes they are! They are about the men you like and no one knows about them THEREFORE—!” 

“Muscles!” Peter blurts out, face reddening when Wade’s brows shoot up like he didn’t expect that. Peter also doesn’t miss the way Wade’s eyes dart down his own arms, like he was making sure he was still buff or something. “Like—that guy had  _huge biceps_ and his  _thighs_ were... _enormous,_ ” Peter trails off, distractedly. “They could crush my head if they wanted to,” he mumbles, a little starstruck.  

“YOU ARE SO CUTE!” Wade shrieks and crushes Peter to his chest, ignoring his shouts as he makes sure  _his pretty huge biceps_ crush Peter’s head against his chest as a reminder that, y’know, Wade is  _shredded_ —like,  _mega-ripped._  The  _buffest_. If Peter needed more buff, Wade would go back to Muscle Milk and protein shakes. “You’re  _so_ cute, I can’t believe you managed to get even cuter somehow but you did!”   

 _Oh, my God, they’re just as firm as I thought they’d be,_ Peter thinks with something close to spiritual agony when Wade shifts and Peter’s cheek smashes against his left bicep now. His fingers twitch and dig into his knees to keep them still. “Please let me go, this is really uncomfortable.” 

“Like, in general or just in your pants?” 

“Ugh!” Peter shoves him off, because his pants  _are_ feeling tight now that he mentions it and Peter doesn’t need to pop a full-chub just because Wade let him feel his muscles for a split second. God, Peter’s pathetic. He doesn’t even have any experience; he has no idea how he’d handle Wade or anyone and he definitely didn’t want Wade to poke his nose into that topic of existential agony, too. “There! That’s it, anything after that is boring. Now you know all my dirty secrets.” 

“Now I can tell you mine!!”  

“Wade, everyone knows what you’ve been up to—you don’t  _care_ about secrets, remember?” 

“Awh, true,” Wade deflates then he lights up. “Oh! But I do have  _one_ that no one knows!”  

“What would that be?” 

“Weeell,” Wade draws out, and leans forward. Peter does, too, holding his breath a little as Wade parts his lips and takes a breath. “I can’t tell ya’ yet—but I will soon!” He giggles madly as he sits back down and leaves Peter with curiosity. “Don’t worry, Pete, I just wanna’ draw out the suspense as long as possible for the readers!” 

“I swear to God, if it’s something  _stupid_ , I’m not gonna’ talk to you for a week!”  

“It’s not stupid,” Wade says, softly, and when Peter looks up again, Wade is smiling a little weakly down at him. “But you probably won’t wanna’ talk to me for a week anyway. Or not. Who knows. I’ll know soon,” he adds, and Peter tries not to worry. 

Surprise: he worries.  

 

* * *

 

 

Weirdly enough, it happens during one of Wade’s basketball games.  

Peter is shielding his hand over his eyes, watching Wade taunt his friends as he bounces the ball between his legs. Peter self-exiled himself when he saw Flash was playing on the opposite team again; he wasn’t going to get his nose broken over some dumb taunts, and Wade let him sit out after telling Flash off. Besides, he preferred watching—something about muscled, sweaty, boys in tank tops got him hot under his collar, what can he say?  

“Peter, right?”  

Peter looks up to find Shiklah gazing down at him, her eyeliner perfectly winged and her lipstick perfectly done. Peter wonders how she can have such a steady hand for a second before he nods, smiling tentatively up at her: “Yeah, hi, that’s me. You’re Shiklah, right? Wade talks about you sometimes.” 

“Does he? Good things, I hope.”  

“Yeah, definitely. You’re, uh, really nice,” Peter mumbles, pushing his glasses up his nose. Honestly, Wade scarcely mentioned Shiklah in  _any_ of their conversations and Peter’s too much of a wimp to  _ask_ him about her. From what he’s seen, Shiklah just seems to be in his close-knit group of friends—kind of how MJ, Gwen and Harry are in his. Plus, he saw her making out with Vlad just yesterday, but he heard rumors that she was into Bob  _and_ Steve so he’s kind of confused about where she stands nowadays.  

“Now I  _know_  you’re lying,” Shiklah snorts. Peter shrugs. “Wade talks about  _you_ all the time, though. How you’re so  _smart_ and  _funny_ and  _the nicest person he’s ever met,_ ” she crosses her arms, and Peter’s eyes are drawn to her sharp nails, painted a deep purple. “I was just wondering what’s so  _great_ about you. I  _guess_  you’re kinda cute—you could even be hot if you ditched the collared shirts and got a hair-cut,” she comments off-handedly, and Peter is suddenly  _very_ self-conscious about his casual polo. “You’re super quiet, though, and I don’t really care if you’re a genius—I just don’t know what’s so interesting about you. Wade says you’re the best thing that’s happened to him, but to me you’re just kinda’… _normal_ _,”_ she frowns, looking at him like he’s some kind of math equation she can't figure out.  

“Wow, come after my entire life without even trying for small-talk first. I give you points for execution.” 

Shiklah raises a brow. “Hm. That the best you can come up with? I'm a little disappointed you don't live up to the hype.” 

Peter wilts a little more under her scrutiny. "Great. Now there's hype about me..."

“You're more of a doormat if we’re going there—so what, then, is it about  _Peter Parker_ that has Wade Wilson so absolutely  _fascinated?_ ”  

Peter grits his teeth. He was not about to duke it out with Shiklah or anyone; never again was he going to act aggressively, not if he wanted to eventually bury his criminal record. “I have no idea, either. In fact, I don’t know  _so much_  that I should probably go—!”  

“You suck his dick?”  

 _“What?”_  

“Have you? I have. I’m kinda’ angry that he hasn’t told me if you have. Is that it?”  

“N-no, I haven’t—I haven’t done  _anything_ with him! We just hang out, we’re  _friends,_ ” Peter snaps, staring up at her dirtily. Peter’s never really been a vicious person, but the way she talked about him—like being with him was a  _trophy_ of some sort rubbed him wrong. “I don’t  _have_ to suck someone's dick for them to like me. It's not my fault you're so unlikable, that's the only way you can have a relationship with someone.” 

Shiklah smirks widely at that. “Oh! There we go. You have some bite after all.” 

“I’d appreciate it if you stopped interrogating me. It's none of your business what I do or don’t do so go back to one of your toys or whatever it is you do when you're not trying pull power moves on people. I don’t appreciate it and I don’t care for it, at all.”  

“ _Actually_ ,” she leans over, and Peter’s eyes dart to her cleavage for a second before they lock back to her interested eyes. “Alright, I'll bite. You’re not at all a little quiet geek like everyone says you are, aren’t you? It just took a little prodding. I think you’d be  _lots_ of fun and who knows?” She grins, tongue out like she’s telling him some saucy secret. “Maybe you’ll learn a thing or two, too.”  

“HEY! HANDS OFF THE GOODS!”  

Peter snaps his head over to Wade, who’s glaring terribly at Shiklah—like he  _knows_ exactly what she’s doing.  

He probably does, Peter thinks irritably. Since it worked on  _him,_ apparently.  

“I was just talking to him,” Shiklah scoffs. “I was wondering why you like him so much, Wade, that’s all. I can kinda’ see why—he’s feisty, isn’t he?” she innocently tells him, grinning when Wade storms over as the game continues behind them. Peter can see Bob look between them nervously only to get hit in the face by the basketball a second later by a sniggering Flash. 

Peter winces in sympathy; at least Flash was a dick to his friends, too.  

“I know that look—that’s the  _I_ _wanna_ _’ fuck him_ look and you can’t fuck him,” Wade flatly tells her. “So beat it, Shiks, go screw someone from the soccer team or something. I think your count is kinda’ low this month.”  

“Asshole,” Shiklah sneers, and grins down at Peter. “Just think about it,” she winks. 

“I won’t. Bye,” Peter bites back, watching her sashay away back to her friends.  

“Whatever she told you is lies and she just wants to sleep with you for no reason other than to just sleep with you! It’s her thing!” Wade tells him instantly.  

“Yeah,  _you’d know,_ ” Peter snaps sourly and only feels slightly bad when Wade wilts under his fuming gaze. 

“I thought she liked me,” Wade tells him, all earnest and shit. Pete hates it because he knows where this is going and  _goddammit,_ he hates his soft nature. “She was…okay, she was a total bitch, but if anyone has the guts to ask someone out, the least you can do is  _consider_ giving them a shot, right? Except it was at a party and I was kinda’ drunk and after we slept together, I found out she also slept with Kyle. And Michael,” he adds, then adds flatly: “All in the same night. I found out about it the next day. Everyone in the locker room was talking about it and when I asked her about it, she didn’t care. She laughed when I told her I thought we were gonna’, y’know,  _actually date_. Just said something about being curious, but not interested in me like that.” 

“Oh, Wade,” Peter says sympathetically. “I’m sorry. That was really shitty of her—she…wow, that was super shitty of her.” 

“What can I say? Something about me makes it easy for people to ditch me,” Wade tells him gloomily.  

“ _No!_ That’s not it at all!” Peter shouts, sitting up from where he had been resting against the gym wall in the shade. “You’re  _amazing_  and no one deserves to have their feelings rubbed into the dirt like that, Wade. You’re extremely funny and sweet, and you’re very thoughtful and, well, you’ve been scouted by university  _coaches_  to play football professionally! You’re talented and you can eat, like, four burritos without drinking anything somehow and you remember things I’d never even consider important, but you like the little things and made me realize just how important those can be,” Peter smiles tenderly. “You’re so important and you should never let anyone who doesn’t give half a damn about you  _ever_ make you feel like you’re not.”  

“…Holy shit, I love you.”   

Peter laughs but slowly stops when Wade doesn’t crack another joke or look away. Peter feels his face grow hot when he finds he can’t look away from Wade’s intense blues. “Uh,” Peter laughs, awkwardly, “Yeah? You’re pretty great, too?”  

Wade shuts his eyes and groans, burying his face in his hands.  

“Okay, rewind, I fucked that up. I didn’t mean to say it like that—I had a whole speech memorized, I just forgot it right now. Uh. Oh! You know when a girl and boy like each other loads and they get it on to some eighties music kind of dating? Only we’re both guys, but the same idea applies because fuck gender norms, am I right?” Wade babbles, peeking between his fingers.  

Peter stares, lips parting in bewilderment. “You… _like_  me?” His voice cracks. Peter will be embarrassed later. Right now, he just wants clarity so he knows this is for real and isn’t some fevered hot flash or something. “Like, this isn’t gonna’ be like that one time Ross told Rachel he loved her and she just patted his head because she thought he was kidding, right?”  

“Depends, who’s Rachel?” Wade asks, holding his breath. “Because I’m totally Ross right now.”  

“I…” Peter wheezes out, wide-eyed. “Um…”  

“Fuck,  _goddammit!_  We should have stuck with the plan—fuck you, Charlie, I  _told_  you this was gonna’ end badly! I SHOULD HAVE WOOED HIM MORE! I had a five-year plan, you bastard, why’d I let you convince me to do this right now?!” 

 _“Five-year plan?”_ Peter mouths, astonished. " _That's_  what that was about?!" 

“I was tired of hearing you bitch about him and four of those years were you trying to convince him to give guys a shot anyway so I just did you a favor by making you ask 'em out and get it over with, you coward!” Charlie shouts, bored with the entire ordeal, more interested in crushing his opponent in basketball.  

“What the hell, since when does  _Wade like Parke_ _r?”_ Flash shouts, utterly confused. “Since when is Wade  _gay?!”_  

“Pan, actually,”Wade corrects. Flash just shoots him a dirty look. 

“Dude, where have you been this entire time?” Charlie says, sending Flash a weird look. Everyone else in the group mumbles in agreement amongst themselves, too. “He has a picture of  _Josh Brolin_  half-naked on a beach in his locker!”  

“I thought that was a joke!”   

“Wade has been gay for Parker since, like, the first time he  _saw_  him,” Aaron Slack yawns out, grinning when Flash gags. “Actually, we kinda’ thought you had the hots for him, too, for a while…Wade was asking around about it at one point. He was totally gonna’ fuck you up if you had been. Kinda’ wished you were because I wanted to see that happen, not gonna’ lie. You getting fucked up, I mean. Not you dating Parker.” 

“GOD NO! Ugh, no, gross, he’s so… _geeky,_ ” Flash grimaces. “And  _weird._ I’m straight, too, what the hell?” 

“Whoaaaa, better watch it, Flash!” Steven Harmon giggles manically. “Ya’ know how Wade gets over his piece of ass! He’ll fuck you up if he hears you talkin’ shit! He punched Bob when he called him Puny, like, a week ago!”  

“It’s true! I have the bruise!” Bob speaks up, triumphantly.  

“Tch, I’d like to see him try!” 

“You have,” Aaron reminds. “ _Twice_ _,_  and you cried the second time.” 

“I  _didn’t cry!_  I got dirt in my eyes!”   

Steven cackles.  

“You can do it, Wade! I believe in you!” Bob shouts as their friends start to bicker about who beat who, supportive as always. Peter is suddenly  _super aware_ that anyone within hearing distance had stopped what they were doing and were paying attention to them—to  _him,_ waiting for his reply. He thinks he sees Flash gawking at them like this was the worst thing that could have ever happened and he’s sure that’s only, like, 30% homophobic and 60% because it’s  _Puny_   _Peter Parker_ that Wade has apparently been pinning after since he first saw him _. Somehow._  

 _T_ _hat sounds fake, but okay,_ Peter thinks, befuddled.  

“So. I think I dug myself into my own grave but I’m gonna' keep going because commitment, right?” Wade speaks up suddenly, bringing Peter’s attention back to anxious blue eyes. “I guess where I was going with all that was…If you’d like to go on a date,” Wade states, quietly. “With me. Please?” He adds, with a hopeful and  _hopelessly charming_ wobblygrin. “It doesn’t have to be anything serious! Just…if it doesn’t work out, we can go back to being friends, and I don’t mean that in a shitty American way, I mean that in the sense that we can totally bro it up without it being weird! Like they do in Canada when shit doesn’t go their way but they have to deal with it anyway. Kinda’ like your country now, but with less guns.”  

“Yes.”  

“You just wanna’ be friends?” Wade asks, hurt dulling his eyes and his shoulders slumping. 

“NO! I meant—yes to the dating, I…yes,” Peter stutters, then smiles brightly. “I’d like to go on a date with you, Wade.”  

Wades stares at him and then the biggest grin lights up his face, makes his eyes shine brightly with barely contained glee. “Guys—GUYS! HE SAID YES! HEY! SHUT UP, I SAID HE SAID  _YES!_ ”  

“I believed in you the entire time, Wade!” Bob cheers.  

“We heard you the first time!” Steven shouts back, bouncing the ball in his hands. “Congrats, Parker, you’re stuck with that moron until you dump him! Also, you gotta’ come to our parties from now on.”  

Flash looked a little green around the gills.  

“Yeah, yeah. Whoo-hoo, you’re taken until he realizes he can do better. Now can we go back to wiping the floor with these bitches?” Charlie demands, scowling.  

“Shuddup, Charlie, and just be happy for me! You thought Fantomex was a good rapper name!” Wade snaps. “Let me have this moment before you ruin it with your penchant for shitty branding!”   

“FANTOMEX ISN’T A BAD NAME!”  

“SAID NO ONE EVER! I did a poll on Facebook—it got 100%!”  

“YOU WERE THE ONLY ONE WHO VOTED!”  

Peter bursts out laughing, shoulders shaking because he totally saw that poll and he had been tempted to select the name since it was the  _only_ option in that poll. He wondered what that had been all about since Charlie had commented and asked him to take it down or he was coming to Wade’s house to wreck his PS4.  

“You’re so  _cute!”_ Wade shrieks and Peter gasps when he crushes Peter’s face into his pecs. “Your laugh is the cutest thing I’ve  _ever_  heard!”  

“Oh, boy, here he goes,” Steven snorts, walking back to the court.  

“Fuck this, let’s just play without him—NEENA!” Charlie shouts, waving her over. She was sat in the bleachers with her friends, talking. “YOU UP FOR SOME BALL? WADE’S OUT! BRING THE PHY-MEISTER, TOO!”  

“IT’S  _PHIMISTER, SHITHEAD!”_ Ellie shouts back, but follows Neena to the courts. 

“You should go play with your friends, Wade, we can talk about this later,” Peter muffles out, still feeling out of breath and giddy at the thought of being able to  _touch_ Wade like this, so closely.  

“I wanna’ play with my  _boyfriend_  instead.”  

“Boyfriend? I thought this wasn’t supposed to be anything serious yet _,_ ” Peter teases, and softly chuckles when Wade pulls back enough to pout down at him. “Stop it, you drama queen. I was just kidding. But I  _am_  serious about going back to your friends—mostly because I want to see you destroy Flash in a game.”  

“Is that what you really want, Pete? You want your hunky boyfriend to destroy one of his friends in b-ball?”  

“ _Absolutely_ , that’s all I want from this relationship—I just want you to destroy Flash in every single sport and in front of a large audience to satisfy my savage need for vengeance after all those years he shoved me into lockers,” Peter deadpans, but can’t keep a straight face when Wade grins wildly.  

“WELL! What kinda’ boyfriend would I be if I didn’t indulge my partner in his sadistic tendencies every now and then?” Wade impulsively leans in to kiss Peter on the forehead and hops away before Peter can even suck in a breath at the contact, cheeks flushing red. “EUGENE! I’m gonna’  _cream_  ya’, and not in the fun way!” 

“Gross! Bring it,  _Winston_ _!_ ” Flash shouts back, and rages when Wade steals the ball from Neena and goes after the net. 

Peter watches them play with a small smile for about two minutes before it sets in that he’s  _dating_ Wade Wilson now, his friends were okay with it, and he’s  _dating Wade Wilson_ _,_ _holy shit._  

“Holy shit,” Peter whispers to himself, staring down at his shoes, wild-eyed and grinning.   

He  _needs_  to talk to MJ about this.  

 

* * *

 

 

“He asked you in front of  _all of his friends?_ And you made a stupid _Friends_ oke?!”  

“I believe it—it wouldn’t be Peter if he didn’t make at least one stupid joke,” Gwen mentions solemnly, grinning when MJ just sends her a cocked brow.  

“I didn’t know what else to say!” Peter whines, lying on his back in MJ’s garage. The band was taking a break and only MJ and Gwen had stayed behind to hear the  _real_ story of how Peter and Wade got together, since there were about ten different versions circulating the school and one of them involved a bet while another one involved a near-death experience. “He caught me off-guard! I never thought he’d ask me out, much less in front of everyone…” 

“I did,” MJ snorts. 

“What? No way.” 

“Oh, no, I knew that doofus liked you all along.”  

“And you  _never told me?!”_   

“It was so  _obvious!_ He’s been head-over-heels for you since you brought him Mexican food during lunch time for, like, two weeks after Vanessa dumped him!” 

“I always thought that was too nice of you!” Gwen squints at Peter. “You never even did that to me when  _I_  broke up with Eddie!”  

“To be fair, Eddie was kind of a dick and you weren’t that broken up over it,” MJ mentions. 

“True…” 

“ _And_  I’ve never seen a person get over someone as quickly as he got over Vanessa—like, we all saw what happened. He looked  _super broken up_ over it but then you shower him with attention for an hour and suddenly he’s fine again, like nothing ever happened, and hogging your free time,” MJ rolls her eyes. “That should have tipped you off—didn’t you find it a little weird how he stopped being all mopey over her and started to suddenly hang out with you all the time, text you all the time,  _call you all the time,_ and be generally clingy  _twenty-four seven_?”  

“I thought he was just hiding it really well and needed a distraction,” Peter mumbles.  

“Maybe. Doesn’t mean he didn’t realize you existed as a person and then he started to really like you,” MJ says.  

“His friends mentioned he liked me since he met me, but I doubt that?” 

MJ hums doubtfully. “I think he  _did_ like you, but you can like someone and not do anything about it, especially if someone else takes the chance before you do,” she looks pointedly at him, and Peter grimaces. She wasn’t wrong; he wasn’t the type to just  _go for it,_ at least not if he knew it could backfire, and he was still in shock he even  _liked_ guys like that at the time, Eddie Brock notwithstanding. Eddie Brock had been a weird  _do I want to look like him or be on him?_ Wade Wilson had tipped straight down to  _I want to be on him harder than diamonds under pressure_ and that thought took some getting used to. Peter was still grateful Felicia had taken the time to walk him through all his angsty doubts.  

“I think it’s cute!” Gwen interjects, starry eyed. “He always said really nice things about you when I talked to him in P.E.! It’s one of the reasons I liked him, since Flash was always such a bully to you, Peter!” 

“Anyway, I’m pretty sure Wade has liked you this entire time, it just took him a while to get his head outta’ his ass,” MJ observes, and Gwen nods in thought. “He was way too friendly to you when he first met you. Regardless, I’ll never approve of him until I see that he really appreciates you as a person so, like, maybe in five years,” MJ sniffs haughtily.  

“Five years? Jeez, never lower your standards, MJ,” Peter chuckles.  

“ _Three_  years?” Gwen hopes.  

“Five or nothing. No one deserves you unless they’re willing to put work in. You’ve only been dating him a few days. I’m waiting for Wade to fuck up—no offense.” 

“He’s really a nice guy, MJ, if you’d just give ‘em a shot,” Peter earnestly says, and MJ thaws a little under his warm gaze. “We’re going out for pizza after school—you can come with?”  

“And watch you two be gross over each other the entire time? Pass…. but I’ll think about it,” MJ adds, when Peter’s face drops a little.  

“Maybe MJ, you, Wade, and I could go hang out at the mall or go eat somewhere together. We still have to properly vet him,” Gwen grins brightly.  “What kind of friends would we be if we didn’t?” 

“Just don’t be too hard on him—he resorts to dick jokes when he’s under pressure,” Peter offers. 

“Iconic,” MJ deadpans.  

“Oh, this is going to be so much  _fun!”_ Gwen squeals, clapping her hand.  

Fun, indeed.  

**Author's Note:**

> I may add in a short part two to this fic, mostly because I do think Peter would manage to get into the university of his dreams because he's got some cool, wholesome, ideas in that big brain of his :)
> 
> Also, my memory of Friends is a hot mess, a sordid mishmash of scenes and bad jokes, because I only remember watching it super late at night, when I was definitely supposed to be sleeping but my parents were busy doing their own things in the kitchen and they left the TV on lmao


End file.
